The 'What I' Series
by Makoto Sagara
Summary: UPDATED - Trowa! Everyone has something that they want, need, desire, or just basically crave. What do the Gundam Pilots, after the wars are over, need to keep them ticking?
1. What I Need Duo

Title: What I Need   
  
Author: Makoto Sagara   
  
Category: Angst   
  
Rating: PG-13   
  
Pairings: 2+?   
  
Warnings: After EW, Angst, mention of self-mutilation, shonen ai, language, Duo POV   
  
Disclaimers: Dun own Gundam Wing. *sniffs* Make no money. *cries*   
  
A/N: I want to thank Duo-chan for the quick beta! Love ya girlie.   
  
Summary: Duo's self-mutilation tendencies are as unnoticed as he thinks they are.   
  
The pain is the only thing that lets me know that I am truly alive. I don't mean the pain that I received in battle. That seems like a dream to me. I mean the pain that I inflict on myself.   
  
No one notices that I never wear short sleeves anymore; that I always wear clothes that cover every real inch of my body. I don't want anyone to know. Then, someone would feel an obligation to "help" me. Pfft. Fuck that. I never asked for anyone's help.   
  
That's the story of my life though. I start to find a way to help myself, or to be of use to someone else, and they get too close, wanting to "help" me. If I wanted their fucking help, I would ask. Fuck them. They can all go to Hell, and if they don't stop annoying me, I'll do it personally.   
  
I never gave up my role of Shinigami. I never really wanted the role, but once I got it, I couldn't rid myself of it. The wars are over. It's an era of peace, but I am doing anything but enjoying the world that I help create. In fact, I am searching for a way out of it.   
  
I can't even tell the one person who I really love how I feel. When I see him, I just slide on a mask. If he thinks I'm happy with what and who I am, then I will let him continue to do so. If all I can do is see him, then that's fine. I'm not sure that I can offer him more than what I've given him at this point.   
  
Do you know how hard it is to pretend all the time? I would love to let someone see the real me. Heh. Yeah right. If I did that, they would run away, screaming their heads off.   
  
I'm really afraid to let go. Who will I be once I do?   
  
Oh shit! He's looking at me. What's wrong? Did my mask slip?   
  
I sit back, take a deep breath, and give him a smile that doesn't quite reach my eyes. He's giving me a strange look, and I can see the worry in his eyes, but I just shrug, burying myself in the paperwork in front of me. Gods know that I have enough of it.   
  
I know what I am going to do when I get to my small, lonely apartment tonight. I will sit in my favorite comfortable chair, and then rake my overly sharp nails across the skin of my arms, just to see the deep crimson liquid flow. Yes, that pain is more real than anything else in my life. More real than the feel of his brief, airy touches. More real than the person I see staring back at me when I look in the mirror every morning.   
  
Oh, fuck! He's staring again. I can feel his eyes on me. In one way, it's incredibly erotic, but in another, it's more depressing. He doesn't, and won't, feel the same way about me. Every time I see him, it makes me realize how truly lonely I am. How I will never truly be happy again. How much of a fuck-up I am.   
  
I can't replace the mask quick enough. I can't make myself do it this time. Does he know? Does he suspect anything?   
  
FUCK ME! He's coming over here. I close my eyes to gather my strength. Finally, I open them again, and plaster on a smile.   
  
"Maxwell," he says. His voice is barely above a whisper, but it still carries the same force it would if he had yelled.   
  
"Yeah?"   
  
"Is there something wrong?"   
  
Ok, what the hell is going on? Since when does he ask me about my welfare? Has the world gone mad?   
  
"Maxwell." He sounds a bit nervous and irritated.   
  
"Nah, nothing's wrong really. Just thinking about something." Not a lie. Never that. It's just a slight twist to the truth.   
  
"What?"   
  
There it is again. That irritated tone. I can't do anything right, can I?   
  
"Nothing important. Just something."   
  
Yeah, I'm staying as vague as I possibly can. What he doesn't know can't hurt him, and I don't want to burden him with my problems. I mean, I know he is my friend, or the closest thing someone like me can have to a friend, but I just can't do it. I won't.   
  
Damn! He's so close to me now that I can smell his aftershave. No, go back to your desk. Don't get any closer to me. Don't look at me. Go away. Please! I beg you to just please go the fuck away and act like this never happened. Stop torturing me!   
  
"You're not telling me the whole truth, Duo." I feel my eyes flutter as he says my first name. He doesn't do it often, and never in that soft tone, which is something akin to a purr, only irritated. "You will, though. Because, if you don't, I'll talk to Une. You know what she will do then."   
  
I swallowed. The bastard was blackmailing me. I wanted to strangle him. I felt my eyes narrow, and I moved my chair back, leveling my glare at him.   
  
"Are you threatening me? You aren't as smart as you think you are if you think that a threat is going to make me do *anything*," I whisper dangerously.   
  
I look into his eyes, which had softened again. Dammit! Don't look at me like you pity me. Keep your fucking pity. I don't need it. I never asked you for your pity. I never asked you for anything. You were the one who asked me to leave L2 to become your partner in the Preventers. I was having fun playing businessman for a change, instead of being Death or a thief.   
  
How I did I get wrapped up in all of this? The fact that even though we didn't know each other well during the wars, I had thought him gorgeous, even when he was ignoring me or yelling at me to shut up, might be why. I couldn't say no to him when he asked for my help. He actually asked *me* for *my* help. Yeah, I jumped right on that bandwagon, like the fucking weak masochistic idiot I am.   
  
He's touching me now. There's a hand on my shoulder. I level my glare at the offending appendage, and he just looks at me. My anger is dissipating. I can feel the rage in me just disintegrating. Why can't I stay mad at him?   
  
"Look, there's nothing wrong with me. I was just thinking. Don't worry about it." I just want him to go away.   
  
"Maxwell," he growls. Damn, in a sick way, that is a big turn on.   
  
"Yeah?" I stiffen. There is someone watching us. Looking around, I notice that the whole room is staring at us. He's noticed too.   
  
"We'll talk about this later." His face tells me that he means business, but I'm not really worried. I've been doing this for far too long for it to actually affect me. I watch him as he stalks back to his desk, glaring at everyone in the room. I stifle a chuckle as they all scramble to look busy.   
  
Yes, little puppets. Go back to your self-important worlds. No one even notices you. They only notice me because I am some sort of war hero. I scoff at the thought of the title. I am honored because I killed people. How sick is that?   
  
Yeah, my plan is looking better and better all the time. In fact, the need to see my own blood is consuming me. Shit! I just wrote that in my report! FUCK! Pay attention, shithead. I'm trying to shove those thoughts into the back of my mind. I really need to concentrate on these reports, or Une will have my ass on a silver platter.   
  
I just looked at the clock on my computer! Yes! It's two minutes to five. Almost time to go home. I save my work, and pack up my things. Those reports can wait until tomorrow. I was almost done anyway. Hell, they aren't even due until the day after tomorrow. I have the time. I shut my computer off, grabbing my jacket. As soon as the clock strikes five p.m., I'm out that door, heading directly to my car, not even waving to my co-workers like I normally do.   
  
I make it all the way to the closed garage, and my car, without running into him again. But, my luck doesn't hold out. As soon as I see my precious baby, the one material thing that I relish, *he* steps out of the shadows. Great!   
  
"Duo, we need to talk. I know what you've been doing, and it has to stop." He sounds very concerned, and for a moment, I try to imagine that he might actually care for me more than just as a partner, comrade, friend. But, this is *him*. He couldn't possibly.   
  
I slowly lift my eyes to look at him, and before I can say anything, he is walking towards me. No, please stay away. Don't touch me. I'm not... I'm not... Just please don't touch me.   
  
He stops, inches away from me, breathing sounding funny. "Duo?"   
  
"Yeah?"   
  
"Why?" He sounds so lost. Like a little boy, but then again, he and I are only eighteen.   
  
"Why what?"   
  
"Why do you hurt yourself?" He asks, pulling up the sleeve of my shirt, revealing the previous scars, some barely healed.   
  
"Why not?"   
  
"Don't you know?"   
  
"Know what?" What the hell am I supposed to know? Am I a fucking mind-reader? Do I look like Quatre? Am I supposed to know what everyone feels all the time? NO!   
  
Oh my god. He's kissing me. It's heaven, and I'm starting to melt. No, please, don't stop. Don't let this be a dream. I've had too many of these dreams, and I just wake up feeling more alone, and the need to feel physical pain becomes sharper.   
  
"That," he breaths, breaking the kiss. My mind is hazy. The kiss was mind-blowingly amazing, but I still don't know anything.   
  
"What?" I need to hear him say something. I *need* it unlike anything I've ever needed anything in my sad, small, pathetic existence.   
  
"That as much as you need pain, I need you." 


	2. What I Want Wufei

Title: What I Want  
  
Author: Makoto Sagara  
  
Category: Angst  
  
Pairing: 5+2  
  
Warnings: After EW, angst, shonen ai, language, mention of self-mutilation, Wufei POV  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own Gundam Wing. Just this story plot and lots of GW paraphernalia...   
  
A/N: This is a companion piece to 'What I Need'. You don't have to read it to understand this story at all, but it would be nice. ^_~ This plot bunny struck me at 4 in the morning after reading a *really* good 5+2+5 fic on GWA by Jen called "When Fallen Angels Fly". READ IT!  
  
Summary: Consumed by over-whelming emotions, Wufei finally acts upon them to an unsuspecting Shinigami.   
  
It is the small things that I notice about him.   
  
The way his mask of joviality cracks and a darker, dangerous side shows. Shinigami. That is who he is at those moments, and although it scares me, I can not help but wonder what could make him slip so far inside himself.  
  
The way he smiles, and shares his passion about life. That is another thing that attracts and confuses me.   
  
He is like two entirely differently people wrapped up in one beautiful package, with an air of mystery around him. I want to know what makes him tick, but... part of me is worried about what will happen once I do.   
  
Ever since I asked him to join the Preventers, a year and a half ago, he has been what he was during the wars. Someone who is a companion... No, a friend. He is a friend, and more than likely, the only one I have ever truly had.   
  
I look over to take the sight of him in. He is sitting at his desk, staring at his computer screen, his usual mask of manic happiness gone, a look of loneliness dragging at his eyes and surrounding his beautiful face and form.   
  
How I long to take him into my arms and hold him. How I long to make all his pain go away, and not return. I sigh in frustration. These thoughts are a fool's dream. There is no way he would ever want me the same way I *need*, want, *crave* him.  
  
He calls me the 'Solitary Dragon', but sometimes I think *he* is the one who is truly alone. It saddens me, and yet, I can think of nothing that would bring his secret to the light...   
  
What is it about Duo Maxwell that draws me to him, like a moth to the flame? His hauntingly vivid purple eyes? His long, although at times impractical, brown hair that is always braided, and kissed with hints of red and gold in the sunlight? His face when he laughs? When he *truly* laughs? I have no idea. Maybe it is his giving nature. His brutal honesty. None of this, and maybe it is all of these things, wrapped inside with the broken soul that screams out at moments when he thinks no one is noticing.  
  
He has finally noticed me watching him. He sits up and takes a deep breath, flashing me a smile that I know is forced and unnatural to his heart-shaped face. I cock my head to the side, trying to ask him without words what it is that makes that sad look come to him. He shrugs in response, and buries himself in the paperwork on his desk.   
  
Forcing my partner's face from my mind for a moment, I return to working on the pile of paperwork on *my* desk. I only succeed in getting a few pages complete when the desire to see what Duo is doing comes to mind, and won't leave. He is staring at his papers, and yet he is not paying attention to them. As if I am paying attention to my own.  
  
All this watching has made me realize that I am really not as strong as I let others think I am. I have a longing for him that I cannot shake, nor do I think that I truly want to. What will welcome me once I leave the Preventers' Headquarters? A cold, empty, and lonely apartment. A place where my obsession will overwhelm my taxed body and mind, unless I throw myself into my katas and meditation until I am so weary that I collapse into my cold, empty, and lonely bed.  
  
I look up again, catching his eyes, and his mask of easygoing amusement is completely eradicated from his face. A look of panic takes over, and I cannot take it anymore. I walk over to him, needing to hear his voice.   
  
He closes his eyes as I near him, and when he opens them again, his smiling Jester's mask is in place. It hurts me to see the falseness of it.  
  
"Maxwell," I say quietly, not wanting to get the attention of our nosey coworkers.   
  
"Yeah?" he asks, his rich voice running over me like water, and acting as a balm to the dull ache in my torn and ragged body.  
  
"Is there something wrong?" I ask, wanting so much to know, and not to know at the same time.  
  
He slips somewhere that I can not go. I allow him his moment of inner thought, but after a few moments, I am impatient with waiting. I was *never* very good with waiting. Only with my books am I ever focused on anything akin to patience, and never with Duo. Not even after the year and half as his partner. Not after the three years I have been his comrade-in-arms... his friend.  
  
"Maxwell," I bite out, sounding overly irritated, though I am actually only worried for him.  
  
"Nah, nothing's wrong really. Just thinking about something." He is not telling me everything, though I know that he would not lie to me. I have never heard him lie. He has his own sense of honour and pride, just as I do mine.  
  
"What?" Tell me, Maxwell. I am so weak with this need to know all I can about him.  
  
"Nothing important. Just something," he says, sounding desperately weary.  
  
I move until I can smell the vanilla, lavender, and the undeniably attractive scent that is his own. I can feel my heart race, and wonder if he can hear it. It feels so loud; surely he can hear it. If I moved another inch, I would be so close that I could... No...  
  
"You're not telling me the whole truth, Duo," I whisper. His eyes flutter when I say his first name, which is something odd in and of itself. It rolls off my tongue, and I devour the taste of it. It's sweet and sour, pure and defiled, simple and complex... Just like the person it belongs to, and who I want to hear the truth from. "You will, though. Because if you don't, I'll talk to Une. You know what she will do then."   
  
I instantly regret having let those last two sentences leave my mouth. His wide eyes shoot open, and then narrow in anger, which is radiating off of him at the moment. His chair shoots away from me, and I notice that his long-sleeve shirt is pulled up, revealing many scars all over his arms.  
  
I listen, but do not hear, his warning. I am staring at the scars in morbid fascination. A few seem very recent and not at all healed. How could I have missed that? It then hits me that he has been wearing long-sleeved shirts for months now, even in the stifling heat of the summer. I feel a severe sadness well up in my body, and if I were a weaker man, I believe I would cry.  
  
Gently, I place a hand on his shoulder. I wish I could say I do so to offer him comfort, but in truth, it is because I suddenly feel light-headed at being so close to him, and the air is so charged I can taste it.  
  
He sighs, and speaks again. "Look, there's nothing wrong with me. I was just thinking. Don't worry about it." The anger has died, leaving the sad tone behind. It infuriates me to no end.  
  
"Maxwell," I growl.  
  
"Yeah?" Suddenly, his shoulder under my hand is as stiff as Gundanium, and his head whips around to glare at our *extremely* nosey coworkers. Straightening up, I drop my hand from his body, and look at him, meaning every word I am about to say.   
  
"We'll talk about this later." I can tell that Duo is unaffected, but I *will* talk to him before I allow him to go off by himself. Those scars are just another warning sign that I refuse to ignore any longer.  
  
I leave him, glaring at the others in the room, until they find their paperwork *far* more interesting than what was happening between Maxwell and myself. Sitting back at my desk, I wearily eye the stack of papers that I *swear* has grown in the last few minutes. I sneak a look at the clock on my computer monitor. It is fifteen minutes until five.  
  
Quickly, I finish the report I had been working on for an hour, and look back at the clock. It is now a minute to five. I save my work, sign my name one last time to the paper, turn off my computer, grab my jacket off the hook by my desk, and follow the rest of the prisoners to freedom.   
  
I make it to the sleek black sports car before he does, and I watch his ambling gait move across the concrete as if he is a dancer. As soon as he is close enough, I step out from the shadow that was hiding my form, and get as near as I dare.  
  
"Duo," I say, his name falling from my mouth easily once again. "We need to talk. I know what you've been doing, and it has to stop." I try to pour all the concern I can muster into those two simple sentences, hoping that he won't leave me feeling this raw and exposed.   
  
His beautiful eyes spare me a glance, and I lock onto that with all that I am worth, and maybe more. I can not wait for him to talk again. I cannot risk any sort of rejection. Not now. I move until there is nowhere for either of us to go, except... And now, my breathing is hitched, and it is difficult to speak properly.  
  
"Duo?" I whisper.  
  
"Yeah?" He sounds so unsure, and it makes what I have to ask a bit simpler, but not as easy as our usual banter. And yet, this is more satisfying.   
  
"Why?" One word that betrays my weakness, and I ignore that voice in the back of my mind telling me that I am weak, and unworthy. Not now, not ever again, Meiran. You are dead, and I am not. Find your peace; I have mine in my grasp.  
  
"Why what?" He knows, and yet pretends that he does not.  
  
"Why do you hurt yourself?" I ask, and in my anger, I shove a sleeve up, exposing his scarred arm to the air.  
  
"Why not?" WHY NOT??? Does he really hold himself in such low regard? How could he? He is the strongest person I have ever known, and yet he thinks he is unworthy of so much. It hurts to realize this important factor behind Maxwell's many masks.  
  
"Don't you know?" Don't you know that I love you? Don't you know that I wish that every time you are hurt on a mission that it was me?   
  
"Know what?" he asks, his voice strained and eyes blazing as they burn into my own.   
  
Before I can stop myself, I have him in my arms, and I am touching those soft lips that haunt my dreams every night. It is heaven and hell, fire and ice, beyond anything I have ever experienced. I want it to continue forever, but I also know that we will need to breathe soon.  
  
"That," I whisper, savoring his taste, his feel, the way I am all but holding him up.  
  
"What?" he asks, needing to hear me say the words that I *want* to finally tell someone, but I have no idea if he feels the same way. So, instead, I settle for something remarkably close to those three words that could bring me pain and pleasure, hoping that they will suffice until we are both positive.  
  
"That as much as you need pain, I need you," I whisper into his ear, pulling him into another kiss, not wanting to let him go. 


	3. What I Desire Quatre

Title: What I Desire  
  
Author: Makoto Sagara  
  
Archive: my site, ff.net, Forever Fandom, Le Ciel Place - Anywhere else, please ask first.  
  
Category: Angst  
  
Pairing: 4+3, mention of 2x5  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Warnings: shounen ai, angst, language, post EW  
  
Disclaimers: Make no money. Own nothing. Poor me!  
  
A/N: Never really thought about writing another chapter to the 'What I' series, but here I am again, starting a new fic to get the plot bunnies that my muses don't 'rid' me of to go away. So, enjoy this! I don't write much 4+3+4, do I?  
  
No one ever bothers to check the happy ones, do they? Put on a face, go another day, deal with normal things, never crack, and everyone thinks you're fine. But, what if you aren't fine? What if your biggest wish is to just crawl up with all your sins, all the blood on your hands, and never wake up? What about that? Still think I'm so fucking happy? Screw you.  
  
Time around Duo has dulled me to such words. When I'm alone, in my large houses, in my office in my empty and dank buildings around the Earth Sphere, or in my car, being driven by my chauffer, I say every foul word I can think of. It helps sometimes. At others, it just makes matters worse. I hate my life.   
  
Duo and Wufei have found some sort of mutual happiness in their common lost and love for one another. I'm happy for them. I smile when Duo calls me, looking genuinely happy for the first time since I met him all that time ago. I laugh when Wufei cuts one of his dry jokes at Duo's expense. I smile and nod, smile and nod, and secretly hate them.   
  
Yes, it's true! I *hate* my best friend and his lover, who are more like family than my twenty-nine sisters. I *want* what they have. And because I don't have it, I hate them.  
  
If you don't like it, so fucking what? It's the truth, and if I can't be truthful with myself, then all hope is lost, isn't it? Oh, I'm feeling particularly bitter today. Yes, yes, I am. Bite me! Go to Hell! Kiss my ass! Losers, all of you, that's what you are! I hate...  
  
Me. That's whom I really hate. I hate the fact that my life is so empty that I secretly hate my friends. I hate the fact that the person I care for the most doesn't notice me, unless, of course, my negotiating abilities are needed for Lady Une.   
  
Yeah, that's right, Trowa! I hate you almost as much as I love you, and almost as much as I hate myself. I hate the way my heart flutters just thinking about you. I hate the way my mouth goes dry when you walk up to me in those impossibly tight jeans you always seem to have on. The ones that look like they're painted on. You know the ones. You're not dumb, and I'm suffering from hormone overload, I guess.  
  
So, what do I normally do when I get like this? I usually hole myself up in my music room, pound away at the piano for a few hours, or I pick up my violin and play the saddest piece I know by heart. Well, I can't do that one for a while. At least, not until I replace my violin. It's a real shame too. That one was beautiful.  
  
So, what am I doing now? I'm sitting in my office, in my house, glaring at the cold, empty books around me, and wishing whole-heartedly that I were with... my friends.   
  
My life, it sucks, you know. It's lonely, cold, meaningless, and leads me to moments like this. To the times where I feel like I want to smash something just to hear it break. To the times where I end up screaming just to break up the quiet air that is always around me.   
  
Why do others think that because I'm the head of this huge conglomerate that they have to treat me like I'm some form of royalty? When do I ever get to be the normal eighteen year old boy that I *should* be? When do I ever get to think about myself for just FIVE FUCKING SECONDS!  
  
Oh, crap. I liked that vase.  
  
But you know, in an odd way, I feel better. There's something to be said about senseless destruction. The release it gives just makes it worth the thousand or so creds it's going to cost to replace that piece of shit. And the feeling of just giving someone the finger is oppressing me. Maybe I will just...  
  
Ahh. Much better.  
  
Do you know what I desire most in this world? Not sex, or money (Allah knows I have enough of it), or fame (don't think I could handle being more infamous than I already am), or anything trivial like that. What I *desire*, crave, desperately *need* is... unconditional love. Not fraternal love. Not familial. Not friendly. I want someone to come home to. Someone who will just *know* when I feel like shit, and just make it all go away when they hold me. Someone who doesn't even have to say anything. Just be there.  
  
I guess that's asking too much, huh? I want what Duo finally has... I want....  
  
Fuck it all.... 


	4. What I Should Have Relena

Title: What I Should Have…  
Author: Makoto Sagara  
Archive: The usual suspects… Anywhere new - please drop me a line.  
Series: What I… Series  
Category: Angst  
Pairing: R+4, mention of 2x5 and 4+3 and 1+R  
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: shounen ai, het, angst, language, post EW

Disclaimers: Make no money. Own nothing. Poor me!

A/N: Well, I took a break from WoW and found my muses trying to eat me alive. And what better way than to come back with Relena angst this time, huh?

I know you love him. I watch you watching him. I see you secretly agonizing over the same things that I do. I see the loneliness and the distance that is put between you and other people eating you alive. I see you so near to cracking that it breaks my heart. I wish there was something I could say or do or…. Just anything.

I don't know when I started to fall for you. Maybe it was between the wars, when we had that one year of peace. Maybe it was after that. You know, we've been to many conferences and meetings together. We think along the same lines about some things. I just wish that there was some way to make you see that pining after Trowa and taking your aggression out on the Trowa in your mind isn't going to help you.

If anyone should know, it's gotta be me. I chased after Heero for a year, and then spent two years after that having him constantly watching me from the shadows. It doesn't help to be mad at him anymore for the 'love' that I thought I felt for him. He was my first crush, but I think I may actually love you. Real love. Not some fairy tale prince that's come to sweep me away and make all the bad guys hide in fear, but some sensible, funny, kind, caring, slightly unbalanced guy that I respect and care for and would like to know better. Isn't that really what love is about?

You know, Heero told me that he loved me once. I guess it's been about a year since he told me. During the wars, I thought that there would be nothing better than to hear the words "I love you, Relena" fall from that man's lips, but when they did, I grew sad. I was so sad and overcome that I started crying. Dorothy thought I was crying out of joy and relief. She just doesn't understand what a burden it is to know that he loves me and that I can't love him that same way, ever. I guess I had some much needed growing up to do and I did it. I'm just sorry that it hurt the one person who doesn't need to be hurt again.

I'd like to be able to work up the nerve to tell you that if you ever needed someone to talk to that you could come to me. I'd like to. Parts of me worry that you'd start laughing and then tell me to go ahead and tell you another one. Not that I think you're that insensitive, but it's really hard to put myself out on a limb after so much has happened to me in the last four or so years.

You're not the only one who's jealous of Duo and Wufei's newfound happiness with one another. It kills me to see them together, although they do make a lovely couple. I have to force myself to smile and nod when I speak to them. Not that it's their fault. Far from it. It's just really sucky that I can't be one of them or at least have what they have. I think I deserve it, don't I? Shouldn't I have something that nice? Something that solid? Real? Beautiful? Stable?

God, I'm crying. Quatre, why can't you just realize that I love you?

I'm such a stupid girl. I never asked for any of this. Just….

LEAVE ME ALONE, YOU VULTURES! CAN'T YOU EVEN LET ME CRY IN PEACE? DIE!

What I should have is something I never will. I know that now. I'll never have love, peace of mind, a private life. All the things that normal people take for granted will never be mine. How I hate them all….


	5. What I Think Heero

Title: What I Think Heero

Author: Makoto Sagara

Archive: The usual suspects… Anywhere new - please drop me a line.

Series: What I… Series

Category: Angst

Pairing: 1+R, mention of 2x5 and 4+3 and R+4

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: shounen ai, het, angst, language, post EW

Disclaimers: Make no money. Own nothing. Poor me!

A/N: Well, when I started, it was just a little drabble of a thing for some Duo angst release. Then, Wufei decided he needed some air time. Then, Quatre needed to vent, and then Relena needed to scream her way out. Now, it is time for Heero to come out with all his frustrations and resentment so he can feel better. The only now missing is probably Trowa, and don't think that my muses have forgotten about him.

**What I Think**

I've seen Wufei and Duo go from being perfectly miserable to wonderfully happy. They make me ill and confused at the same time. I recognize my reaction as that as someone who is jealous of their happiness. However, I find it hard that I am coming to terms with actually having emotions, aside from regret and hope.

Yes, I hope. I hope for people to realize that the war we fought was pointless and to learn from it. Hope that the people who were my comrades and enemies alike find peace within themselves. Hope that I can forgive myself for causing so much death and destruction. Hope that I can reach the one that I care for, after realizing it myself.

I think I may love her. Not that she even notices me that way anymore. No, the only person she can see now is Winner. And the only person Winner sees is Barton. I'm not sure what Barton even looks at besides his adopted family in the circus and his cats. Maybe nothing. Maybe he sees it and he doesn't care.

She still responds warmly when she sees me, her eyes glowing with warmth that makes me want to grab her and… kiss her.

During the war, I thought she was a nuisance. A barrier in the way of my ultimate goal. I tried to kill her twice. She could have died during the fight with Marquise and at the time I wouldn't have cared. Now, I think that I was just stupid. I was an emotionless monster, unworthy of love or friendship. She was the one that awakened the emotions in me, and now I fear I have lost my chance.

I've thought of suicide and decided that it would benefit no one. Not even myself.

I told her that I loved her. She started crying. I wasn't sure why at the time, but now I know why. She can't return my feelings. I wanted to comfort her, but refrained from doing so.

I think that I am still a monster. I think that I will never find happiness. I will never be normal. I will always be…

I will always be…

Unloved.


	6. What I Don't Understand Trowa

Title: What I Don't Understand Trowa

**Title:** What I Don't Understand Trowa

**Author:** Makoto Sagara

**Archive:** The usual suspects… Anywhere new - please drop me a line.

**Series:** What I… Series

**Category:** Angst

**Pairing:** 3+4, mention of 2x5 and 4+3, R+4, and 1+R

**Rating:** PG-13

**Warnings:** shounen ai, het, angst, language, post EW

**Disclaimers:** Make no money. Own nothing. Poor me!

**A/N:** I'm not even sure what made me take this up again. I've been working diligently on MA and my HYD fics and a few others that this sort of popped up out of the blue. I don't know if this is the last of this series. I still have Dorothy, Noin, Zechs, Une, Sally, and Cathy that I can play with like this. Should be interesting, right? Please R&R.

**What I Don't Understand **

There are many things in this world that confuse me, even now. I never went to a real school like Relena, Wufei or Quatre. I never had anyone that really, truly cared for me, like Duo. And I've never had a real mentor, like Heero. I've always just been myself, struggling through the world to find out who I am and what I want. I've always been a cold-blooded killer.

I'm sure that that is not the case. I'm sure that once, I had a loving family with warm parents. However, I don't remember that at all. I am Nanashi, No Name. I am Trowa Barton. I am Cathy's adopted brother. I am… hollow.

You are the sun. How could I ever hope to be able to stand in your brilliance and not get blinded? How could I not see it all that time when we were together on Earth? How could I let myself develop these feelings? I knew that I couldn't afford to get attached to anyone during the wars. Those kinds of bonds leave one vulnerable to torture and other things with the enemy looming around every corner.

I suppose my first step towards weakness happened when I meet Cathy and the rest of the circus performers. There was something familiar and warm about her. It just made me want to bury my head in her lap and cry. Such an embarrassing and uncharacteristic feeling that was. I'd never once really felt like crying, and all it took was a few moments of sweetness from a complete stranger to make me want to dissolve into tears like a child.

I can feel your eyes on me. They burn holes in what's left of my soul. The look in your eyes scares and excites me. How could I ever ask you what that means?

I see the way that Relena looks at you, Quatre. It is one of sadness and longing. It's the same look that Heero has for her. We are a pathetic lot, are we not? The only ones out of all of us who survived the wars that are not lonely are Duo and Wufei. They have managed to find solace in one another. I commend them, even if a part of me detests them. I suppose it's jealousy for what they have. That seems the most logical.

Stop looking at me. I don't understand you. What do you want? Why do you make me feel so anxious?

What I don't understand could fill libraries, but what I do understand is that I am no longer content here alone. Just stop staring at me with those sad, lust-filled eyes. They make my heart race. They make my blood boil. They make me want you more than I can even say. Just stop.

Go away.

Come here.

Argh!

Never mind.


End file.
